Pokemon : Reckoning
by Acen'daqua
Summary: Everything can change in the blink of an eye even in the Pokemon world. Sometimes for the better most the time for the worse. Follow a young wanderer as he and his Pokemon try to set things back the way the were or die trying.
1. Chapter ?

**This is my newest story and I hope everyone enjoys it. Basically when I first started writing on this story I ad no idea where I was going with it now I know I want to cover many issues in the Pokemon world especially in a post apocalyptic setting when all order has gone out the window, and see what comes of it. I hope you all enjoy. **

**Pokemon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri, and Nintindo... not me.**

Chapter ?

Lonesome Lonesum

The streets were more than crowded and people were far from kind about getting from one vender to another. It was Market day every day in the Oasis of Lonesum a city named after its two most popular attractions. One, the fact that the city was alone in the desert meaning anyone there could do anything, the second being sum as in money as in the richest slaver city in the land possibly the world.

It was quite famous for the slave trading of people and Pokémon what disgusted the traveler was that no one thought that it was wrong or even a moral dilemma. The streets overran with crime and violence as long as you had the money to pay the guards you could do anything from robbery to murder. As for Pokémon none were considered free.

If any Pokémon was spotted without a collar bearing the mark of its master it was captured and either sold for money or killed for its pelt. This was why the stranger had left his other three Pokémon on the outskirts of town only taking with him Duelot his Volbeat who currently sat on his shoulder looking. For lack of a better word pissed as he had a black collar tightly around its neck.

He had gotten the collar of the trader he'd met in the desert who told him to watch out if he came to Lonesum. From the description the trader gave he would have avoided the disgusting city altogether but they were low on supplies and if him and his Pokémon were to make the rest of the journey they would need food and water.

The traveler wore a tan cloak that blended with the sand very well as well as the city whose walls walkways even stalls all seemed to be made of sand or at least weather worn wood and brick. As he walked Duelot looked around curiously as they moved through the thronging crowd who were far from polite about all of it.

They passed Raticates and Tropius all with the same collars all chained to the ground. A Luxray fought at its chain ferociously and the owner kept his Nidoking continually shooting it with poison sting. The Luxray was strongly defiant but it was a losing battle as the poison would gradually grow until the Pokémon died of either exhaustion or poison.

It was seeing this that made the wonderer want to hurl all over but it was not even the worst sight. The fierce Pokémon at least had the ability to fight but seeing children on the street throwing rocks at a chained up Cubone was too much. Just as one of the kids threw a rock the wonderer stood between them and the Cubone catching the projectile.

A bigger kid then threw a larger rock that could have easily damaged someone's face permanently. Duelot from his shoulder used signal beam disintegrating the rock before it came close. He then glared at the children and they scattered immediately. He looked back to the Cubone who was missing something quite important.

He reached in his pack and pulled out a bleached white bone he had got off the Cam erupt skeleton on his way in. The Cubone took it happily and the wonderer took a quick look around the owner of said Cubone was turned around haggling on the price off a Drillbur. So stealthily he had Duelot use one more signal beam snapping the chain.

The Cubone stared at where the chain broke for a few seconds before saying a quick thank you in the way of Cubones and then running off down an ally adjacent the vendors stall. The wonderer seemed pleased with his work and carried on to a dusty bar that was at least a bit away from the vendors and yelling and shouting and whatever else.

As he sat at the bar he pulled his hood down revealing messy dark brown hair a refreshing shade compared to the sand that cloaked the entire city. His face was younger than most in the city barely in his twenties the barkeep assumed. And on his cheek a symbol… no a scar and one he hoped no one would recognize this far south.

It fanned out making nine points on his cheek reaching from just below the eye to the line of his mouth. Nine tails all spiraling back to their source the hilt of a whip or rather a cat o' nine tails. The symbol was small enough that it only covered his cheek but big enough all could see. "Whoa boy some scar ya got there."

The bartender said somehow sounding jolly despite the affront to Arceus going on outside. "…brand." Was all he said his voice young but not as carefree as it should have been at his age.

"Brand, scar whatever ya seemed to have survived it and made it to me bar so welcome and what can I do for ya?"

Duelot stayed silent on his shoulder a rare occurrence from the usually hot headed firefly. "I need supplies the sooner I'm out of here the better."

"Well supplies be what ya need I got them but you seem a tad young you uh got some money or is we gonna trade? Gotta say that be a fine Volbeat ya got there I may be willin to give ya what ya need in exchange for it.

He sat silently for a bit while Duelot reeled in silence at the aspect. Finally the wonderer responded. "…HIS name is Duelot and HE is not for sale." The stranger said his voice rising as he slammed his wallet on the counter. Wallet meaning a humble grey pouch that bulged quite a bit.

"All right, All right I didn't mean nothing by it sheesh never seen a traveler with such a temper."

The wonderer found that hard to believe but said nothing as the shop keep fetched the stuff he needed like water and food. As the man worked he talked though the stranger would have preferred silence. "So then I know yer sla- uh friends name but what be yours?"

"….Krall my name is Krall."

The "Heard of the Krall people I have barbarians supposedly but never heard it as a name."

Krall just responded with silence. "Not a very talkative kid are you? What you doing out in the middle of Dayze Desert anyway bit dangerous in'et? And I know that there Volbeat ain't keeping ye safe? Or isit ye got more Pokemons stashed about ye?"

"That is none of your business barkeep." He almost yelled his attitude returning.

But the barkeep just smiled as he stacked the last of the stuff on the counter. "I knew it." He said smugly. "Now that'll be 2,500." The barkeep just smiled as Krall's jaw hit the ground.

"For food and drink are you trying to rob me!? At least have the decency to tell me."

"Now now boy I think you may be over reacting besides I done told you how to make it affordable. You give me that there Volbeat and I'll cut the price to a perfectly reasonable 500."

Krall wanted to straight out punch the man but the guards would be on him before he cleared the vendors and going to jail was not part of his plan. So he opened his wallet ant dumped out 2,500 leaving himself with 50 left. He looked into the much lighter pouch now depressed, but the barkeep seemed genuinely surprised the boy had that much.

He didn't complain however scooping it up and dumping it all in no particular form of sorting into the register. Krall had already stowed the supplies in his pack and was headed towards the door when the man looked up and said. "Thanks for your business if your ever in Lonesum again be sure to drop by Ol' Ferris's bar."

Krall waved over his shoulder and exited the bar. A sandstorm was beginning to start and the vendors were hurriedly packing up. Krall pulled the hood up and headed back the way he'd come. He thought it would be best to give the city a wide birth despite that it would no doubt be quicker to cut through it.

As he walked picking up pace he saw the Pokémon being loaded into carts. He passed the Luxray who was apparently going to be left in the storm as it was still chained and no one was around. So Krall spared his final antidote making sure the poison was quelled then hit the passed out Luxray with a super potion.

The beast jumped to its feet roared and snapped the chain with a final pull then it ran off into the desert. Krall was just happy it hadn't decided to eat him when it broke free. He continued on and saw one final vendor apparently to brave to flee the fast approaching storm. His wares consisted of Mothim and Butterfree, Masquerain and Ledian bugs apparently none of which enjoyed being buffeted by the sandstorm and all were in tiny iron wrought cages.

He would have just continued but then he heard something like a whistle. Not a hey over here whistle but a pretty wavering whistle that was followed by another even prettier note. The whistles were sad and followed by an instrumental sound like a Xylophone. Krall looked down to see the source. A Kricketot with a collar around it's waist so that it couldn't open its wings or really move at all.

At last the vendor noticed him staring at his property. "Yea that blasted thing won't shut up for two good seconds. I'd put a muzzle on the thing if its mouth wasn't so tiny."

"What do you plan to do with it?" Krall asked though his eyes never left the small red Pokémon."

"Psh if it don't sell soon I'd just as soon kill it. Spare my ears that way."

The Pokémon looked at Krall with big eyes not quite pleading more like asking nicely for him to save him as if he still had honor and etiquette even in a grim situation like so. "How much." He asked nonchalantly hoping the man's desire for silence would out way his desire for money.

"Make it an even 40 and I'll give it to you the accursed beast."

Not so happily he pulled out all but 10 of his remaining money. The rest of the trip would not be easy unless he found a job or something. But for now the vendor removed the collar and handed the Kricketot to Krall who held it in his hand with ease. The vendor moved to put the collar in his pack but Krall spoke again. "Actually I don't have a spare one and I can't leave the city without it being in a collar.

He seemed to think for a moment as he held the collar. "That'll be an extra 10 these things don't grow on trees you know." Gonna be a loooooong trip. Krall thought to himself simply tuning the wallet over in his hand letting ten shards fall into the vendor's hand. "Pleasure doing business with you but let me just say you'll regret it the second that thing goes to whistling sounds like a freaking Chatot when it gets going.

But he just ignored him as he snapped the collar back on the red Pokémon. "It's just till we get out of the city I swear. But the Kricketot wasn't deterred at being made immobile again it still had a thank you on its face like it knew that he was being saved. Then with Volbeat on one shoulder and Kricketot on the other Krall made for the exit where he would escape this accursed city as for the sandstorm though that was a different story.

**Again hope you enjoyed please review and tell me what you think.**


	2. Prologue

**This should shed some light on the situation of the previous chapter again hope you enjoy.**

**Pokemon belongs to Satoshi Tajiro, and Nintindo... not me**

Prologue

Uh… Prologue

At the turn of the century, the year 2000 all was right with the world the entire planet was enjoying great economy. People and Pokémon lived together in harmony and peace, some people raised Pokémon as nothing more than a friend and protector, while some used them as workers though they were always treated with respect and adoration.

Some still thrill seekers used their Pokémon in contests of strength and skill in contests and battles training to be world famous, for them and their Pokémon to gain fame and fortune. But weather fighter, worker, or friend. All Pokémon had one thing in common if they were owned so to speak. They were all kept inside devices called Poke balls.

A device used to put a Pokémon in a sort of stasis so they could rest while not needed. It seemed a fair creation and no one ever heard a Pokémon complain except a few rare cases most involving Pikachu for some reason. But regardless of reason for use it was not allowed for a trainer foreman or whatever to carry more than six Pokémon so a scientist created the P.C. System.

The system stored Pokémon online no one questioned how it worked and again the Pokémon didn't seem to complain so it was allowed. But then one day 13 years later something unthinkable happened. A lightning storm that covered the entire planet it was as if one thousand Raikou, Zapdos, and Thundurus had all created the most amount of lightning possible scorching the land.

It was short notice to the extreme sunny one minute and the next it was over like one giant bolt of lightning had split the earth down the middle. Casualties were high in humans but it was beyond compare for Pokémon. The electricity was so powerful Poke balls shattered and P.C's exploded the Pokémon being held there were lost whether they still exist on the other side of the locked cyber door or not no one knows but they are assumed to be gone forever.

The aftermath was worse than the initial storm. Pokémon who were in the wild became more wild some did some remained in control of themselves but some once peaceful Pokémon now attacked people without remorse. Humans with all their Pokémon taken from them and no Poke balls left to catch them. People did what people do.

Sharpen the sword and notch the bow. What followed could scarcely be called a war in just a short time the wild Pokémon most of them anyway came to their senses but it was too late to stop the murder that followed and when it was done Pokémon wore chains. Some people returned to civilization or at least tried. Despite wind energy solar energy Pokémon power no device would hold a current.

The electricity was turned off and nothing could be done. Years passed and cities began popping up again using mirrors and magnifying glass to light a room instead of light bulbs. Some people choose not to return though and did their own thing from start roving bands to sail across the ocean and see if it was any better somewhere else.

Countless years passed and Pokémon remained slaves no one seemed to remember the old ways even the names that belonged to the regions faded away the land was claimed by either settlers from the city or con men that saw potential or even the roving bands that seemed to have lost their minds completely. This story follows the tale of one such barbarian as he quests to figure out what happened, why, and if he can fix it.

**Ta-da information yaaay! Please review if it pleases you.**


	3. Chapter 1 Lessons Not Soon Forgotten

**The first actual chapter in the series man this feels good. Espera que quere.**

**Pokemon belongs to Satoshi Tajiri, and Nintendo... not me.**

Chapter 1:

Lessons Not Soon Forgotten

He woke the same way as every other day to the deep slow drums of the hunters returning from being out all night searching for the food required to feed a clan of nearly one hundred people. Though the clan was not huge all who called it home were warriors to the T, all could fight with a sword or bow or spear or whatever was at hand. They did not take prisoners and never had a traveler appeared at their gate for fear of said barbarians.

Letting out a small moan he stood up on the hard floor that his bedroll was laid out on inside his little tent. He walked over to a basin that was filled with water he had gathered the night before at the fresh water spring near the village. He took a long drink first and then splashed the rest on his face. He was lean and his face young his palms were as his comrades would describe… soft.

What is meant by that is in their opinion everything about him was soft he had no kills to his name and was never seen in the practice arena and it was unknown if he even knew which end of the sword to hold when you fight. As he washed his face his hand ran over his cheek… completely smooth as normal. Then he strapped his sword to his side (though no one had ever seen it come out of its sheath.) and left the tent.

Outside the sun was barely rising and many members of the clan like him were just exiting their tents. The way the camp was set up was on a hill all the tents were set up in a semi circle. The one empty space led down to the rest of the camp which primarily consisted of the giant fire that was always kept going and a few banquet tables plus a sparing arena to the side and a pen where food was kept alive so they could fatten up.

The chief's tent was set higher on the hill than the other tents so he could observe all. Behind his tent and surrounding the entirety of the camp were sharpened stakes pointing out forming a protective wall around the village. In the one place stakes were not present that was where the gate to the village rested. During the night it was kept closed so the village was walled off and protected but like now as the hunters returned. Two able bodied men pulled on ropes that were attached to the gate through a system of pulleys so the gate was lifted and the hunters could march inside.

Throughout the day while the village was active the gate would stay up but when night fell and the hunters left again the same men would unite the knots and the gate would fall back into place protecting the village. Like now the gate was the lifted and hunters marched in. He watched with mild interest however. On either side of him the other tents contained the young men who like him would be the next generation of hunters.

Below them the Hunters were circling the fire with what their trophies of what they caught and killed the night before whatever it was would have to last a while as food became scarcer and scarcer as time marched on. The first three or four all had small game. An Aipom, a couple Linoones, even a Pidgeotto had been caught for the feast. But then the real prize was shown. It took all the remaining hunters to haul the catch back to camp. A Bouffalant.

It was hoisted on a stick upside-down and rested on the hunters shoulders even with the remaining six hunters the prize was clearly a massive weight. Then the chief stood in the center in front of the fire facing his people with the hunters at his back and gave a great shout of victory and cheering went up throughout. But the boy remained silent, he could see the beast had been beaten nearly to death but all the same its chest was heaving it was merely too exhausted to fight back.

The chief drew his own sword and ended the beast's life there. The boy let out a sigh of relief at least it was quick seeing as immediately after it was cleaned and hoisted above the fire to cook slowly until the feast. Then the clan went about their day the young men began sword fighting the hunters just back would sleep until the feast. The woman would prepare the food seeing as the dishonored weren't allowed to help with the preparation of food.

The dishonored being a small group who had all failed the clan in some way. They were considered useless and treated like children the members of the clan seeing if they could succeed at a trivial task. Usually they washed the clothes or fetched something for one of the actual clan members. But his eyes always went to their cheek where they had been marked by the chief. Once the yell of victory was over they went about their day awaiting the feast.

As for him though he would do what he always did sneak away from camp to explore and find some real food namely berries and well not Pokémon. He tried to act stealthy slowly scooting towards the gate. He would have done better to act without purpose it seemed to work for the rest of the Krall Clan. True it turned out to be acting stealthy only drew attention and his escape was cut off.

Just a few steps from the gate where he could edge around the side and slip into the Red Forest unnoticed but just before he was out two of his 'fellow' hunters in training cut off his escape. "Onde Fith?" the one asked who had cut off the escape to the forest.

"S, onde vi?" asked the other who stood between him and the village.

"Vai se esconder, como de costume?" the first one asked.

"Vai cazar!" he said proudly though the two bullies didn't seem impressed.

"Fith caza?"

"O único que podía cazar Fith sería un Bidoof." One said finishing with a stupid face as if to mock him.

"Vou cazar agora saia do meu camiño!" he finished with a shout that got quite a few looks from those nearby plus it surprised the two and gave him a chance to slip away.

Just before he was free of the village he looked over his shoulder and saw the chief look right at him with a disappointed look. Then he was gone into the Red Forest. He walked for some time continually looking over his shoulder until the banner could no longer be seen. The banner being the flag erected at the top of the hill that could be seen all around the flag was the symbol of the clan.

A simple black design on a blood red background, the symbol being a black spiraling outwards whip with nine tails. Or simply a cat o' nine tails. The boy stopped once he made it to his pond seeing as the clan usually used in the river that ran by the camp few ever came out here. So after looking around once more he climbed a tree and looked down at the foliage of the forest. Pokémon had become very wary in recent years and they couldn't really be blamed if they went too far north the barbarians would eat them to far south and the slaver cities would catch them and clap them in chains.

So it was no wonder few Pokémon remained though it was unknown where they went considering they can't technically disappear well Abra could teleport and Kecleon could hide but mostly if you were in Red Forest you were IN Red Forest. As he sat he watched the leaves drift from tree to tree on the wind. Other than the red flag hung high over the forest. This place also got its name from the trees themselves.

It was always fall here the trees leaves were blood red and always falling the forest floor was littered with blood red leaves and the trees themselves a sort of ashy brown made the Forest about as red as red can be without splashing blood all over everything which the Krall clan was attempting to do little by little every day. He just sighed though he had always found eating Pokémon strange or rather off.

He remembered his first real taste from when he was young the hunters had brought back a Nidorino bull after it was prepared and the clan sat down to eat, others had joked saying it had a kick to it. To him though it was just odd. As he grew he found another word that seemed to fit the description well... cannibalism. He found this term was about as accurate as any other.

It happened one night when he was on a hunt as all young men go on a hunt once a month so as to learn from the hunters. It was on his fifth hunt a few years back when he got separated from the hunters. It was the dead of night and he couldn't see he was sixteen then and being relatively new to the concept figured if he followed the stream it would lead him back to the camp. Except he followed the creek the wrong direction and wound up even more lost until a Pokémon found him.

As if he wasn't scared to begin with when the Pokémon found him. All he saw was a glowing eye and a faint red zig zag on the Pokemons face. He had freaked out slashing at it with his sword only to become disarmed lying on the ground with the Pokémon sitting on his back. He had tried to fight the Pokémon multiple times, every time he calmed down and the Zangoose stood he would immediately try to tackle it again.

But it paid him no mind it would always end with the Zangoose as the victor. Finally giving up he actually managed to befriend the Pokémon and Zangoose showed him the way home. Once outside the camp he urged the Zangoose to flee but it was too stubborn finally he punched it hoping to knock some sense into it. The Pokémon was surprised by the action and actually fell to the ground. That was when the hunters came back they saw him punch the Zangoose out and then set upon it with their swords while it was down.

That morning he was hailed by all the clan. Though he was supposed to sleep while the food was being prepared he just lay there on his bed roll thinking about the Zangoose unsure of what to do though he knew even if he wasn't a coward he would be unable to do anything… besides Zangoose was already dead. Then the time came to eat. All the food was set on the table usually the hunter who killed the beast got the second bite (after the chief of course) but this time even the chief allowed the hunter to go first and the honor was given to him.

A Zangoose steak was placed in front of him and all looked on expectantly. He took a single bite and couldn't contain his disgust throwing what little there was back up. He couldn't do it. The Zangoose had been his friend if even for a short time... Yes Cannibalism was the correct term and even now the Zangoose still haunted him. As if it wasn't already so terrible the clan members then threw out the Zangoose steak thinking it was spoiled somehow.

The Pokémon had been killed cooked and thrown out all three were a crime against Arceus. It was also that day he became so disgusted by everything the clan stood for. He soon after began leaving the village every day to come out here and sit. It wasn't long after he started to live on the berries and fruit in the forest. There wasn't much but enough to keep him fed without having to eat… that.

As he sat in the tree he could still remember Zangoose the Pokémon's face as the hunters stuck and sliced it. His greatest wish was to escape the village but he knew he wouldn't make it anywhere before the hunters caught up with him. He knew the forest well from his excursions but they knew it better. It killed him to know he would never escape. "Fith are you up there? I know you're here somewhere come down and speak with me." Came a voice below him.

"Mother?" he asked surprised looking down only to see her standing there expectantly. She was beautiful far more so then the women of the tribe for one she was shapely instead of the others who ate without reserve. Her hair was long and clean, jet black she wore a long dress something the women of the tribe definitely didn't do seeing as it was far from practical but then again as the wife to the chief she was allowed such fantasies.

She looked up at him with a sweet smile. Of all the people in the clan she was the one who didn't pressure him to eat Pokémon flesh which was a welcome difference to everyone else's prodding including his own father the Chief. The fact his father was the chief was also most likely why he wasn't a dishonored he certainly acted odd compared to the others. Plus in the mind of the clan if you aren't a Krall you're a dishonored and luckily so far his father had protected him.

He landed with a thud in front of his mother who looked surprised and then looked stern. "I knew you were around here now what have I told you about making a scene and running off? It reflects badly on your father." He hung his head.

"Yes mother I apologize."

"Well why apologize to me I'm not the one you made a fool of." She said turning her nose up and acting unaware

Fith hung his head lower and scratched the back of his neck. "Um yes ma'am." She nodded and hmphed about then smiled and set a hand on his shoulder. "Try to come back before they close the gate and don't get yourself killed by a Pokémon." She said with a wink and turned around to leave. Fith just beamed as she walked away. "Thank you mother and I will." He shouted after her before going over his sentence again.

The secret language his mother had told him was rather complex but he had practiced it all his life. It was their own language only he his mom and dad knew it. The language made it easy to communicate with no one learning what he said. But she had also said not to use it to much around other people as it was their 'secret' language. He still smiled at how cunning his parents had been to create a completely new language all themselves.

Once she was gone though he lost purpose and decided to walk instead of climbing back into the tree. He had a nice walk and luckily he didn't get lost. After he had been walking for a time he stopped when he saw a Pokémon it wasn't the first he'd seen since he started exploring and he wasn't exactly intimidated just surprised Deerling were supposed to have either become extinct from over hunting or at least moved somewhere else due to the Barbarians.

But here one was standing still staring at him. Though its camouflage was good it wasn't capable of making it invisible. Yet the Pokémon stood still looking terrified. Not sure what was coming over him he took a step towards, then another it just stood there looking terrified. "Eu non vou te machucar- I mean-" but it was too late hearing that language sparked something in the Pokémon and it bolted.

Fith went to sigh but a second later he was being attacked something was tearing into his back with no remorse. 'Growlithe? Persian?' he thought he fought trying to get it off but it was on his back bearing down on him right where he couldn't reach. He fell to the ground and curled up trying to maybe wait it out. But then it was over and he wasn't being attacked anymore.

His back seared with pain but he was alive and not being attacked. He uncurled and rolled over only to see an unlikely assailant. A purple feline about a foot tall with swooping ears that reminded him of a sideways moon. It's tail was a spiral that curled round again and again. And it was now licking itself as if it had been doing it the whole time. "Oi?" was all he managed. The cat then nonchalantly pointed in the direction of the fleeing Deerling who was almost completely out of sight.

"Estaba protexendo o Deerling?" he asked and the Pokémon straightened up suddenly and hissed right in his face before showing it's fully extended claw. "Geeze sorry." He said falling back on the secret language out of surprise. And as soon as he did the claws disappeared and the Pokémon rubbed itself against his arm and purred loudly. "You understand me?" but the Pokémon just continued and then curled up against his arm.

Some time passed and he was unsure if he should stay or go so he simply lay there talking to the Glameow "Well to be honest I thought that this was a secret language I didn't think Pokémon would understand it of all things. By the way why aren't you scared of me I mean you attacked me without fear of death I could have easily killed you in the name of the Krall..." The Glameow paused from its grooming and looked at him with mild interest then showed its claws again.

"So your just fearless huh is that it?" the Pokémon nodded bravely without pausing a second.

"Well what's your name? I don't know what to call you other than Glameow and that's not exactly the manliest name." they stared at each other for a time before he realized Glameow was not going to answer his question so he took on the responsibility. "Let's see you are brave and gutsy I take it you win allot?"

The Pokémon nodded heavily agreeing. "Okay you win all the time right? Well obviously or you would have been sitting on the banquet table by now." Apparently living with the barbarians had given him a bit of a twisted sense of humor. One that the Glameow did not find amusing, so Fith cleared his throat and continued. "You win a ton of fights so Winton? No Winston yea that's it I like it how about you?"

He considered the name before nodding firmly. The two sat and talked for a time… well Fith talked Winston listened or at least pretended to. But when the sun began to sink lower and the drums signaling the feast sounded throughout the entire forest Fith realized just how late it had become and jumped to his feet. Winston who had been leaning against him slid and hit the dirt then looked up at him with a glare.

Fith looked back quickly. "Yea I'm sorry but I gotta go maybe I'll see you around." Then he ran off before Winston could so much as yawn. He ducked and weaved through the trees back to the camp until he made it tho the river that ran just in front of it. As he walked through he gate the sun hung low. The hunters would enjoy the feast and then go back out into the forest for another night. Fith tried to remain hidden as he sneaked his way to his seat.

And when he sat he let out a huge sigh of relief until everyone else was seated and the plates of food were placed on the table. His breath caght in his throat as the roasted Pidgeotto was placed in front of him on the table. It was a sad sight and it upset him to be so close to it but he tried to remain cool just like he always did during supper. Once the Linoones and Aipom were also on the table plus the giant Bouffalant it was indeed a feast.

Though the food sat ready no one made a move the chief stood first and said. "Hoxe somos bendicidos por unha festa poderoso;. Que o clan crecer nel." The beast of a man who was as well Fith's father looked scarcely like him being large and intimidating the only aspect they shared was the messy brown hair. The chief took a slice off the Bouffalant mid section and ate it whole before nodding to the hunter who had brought it down.

Perhaps the most skilled hunter and the one who generally got the second bite mimicked the chief and took a slice of meat before eating it as well then the chief spoke once more. "Escavar." Then the clan began the feast getting as much food as possible. Watching it always reminded him of why they were considered Barbarians. But the chaos was good for one thing him remaining unnoticed.

Fith looked around as the Pokémon were devoured by the one hundred members of the clan. When he looked to the end of the table he saw his mother who was eating slowly like she was in no rush unlike the other savages as she ate a piece of the Aipom. As for his father he was far from poise and grace. He was currently devouring more of the mighty beast however flecks of food were getting caught in his beard and moustache.

The sight was horrible and Fith felt ashamed when his stomach growled during his adventure with Winston he had forgotten to eat anything normally he survived on berries or even grass but now he would have to wait another day in order to just get some food. As the feast dragged on Fith wondered if the Dishonored would get any food at all seeing as they were fed scraps.

Time marched on and the feast drew to a close Fith looked up thinking he was out of danger only to see his father who had finished eating and was now looking in his direction. He looked away immediately but knew he would be cornered before the night was over. The feast ended and the hunters prepared to leave yet again sharpening swords and such Fith wanted to escape to his tent but knew it was a doomed endeavor as the Chief would no doubt be seeking him out soon.

Definitely not something to look forward to he thought as he slid down into his seat trying to become invisible. After the feast he made a mad dash to his tent he knew the chief would have to bless the hunters before they returned to the wilderness so he had at least some time- "Son." Then again… Fith who was standing over his basin could already see his father in the mirror and he did not look happy.

Fith turned around slowly and saw his father held a piece of meat in his hand hardly any, just a bite in fact. He could already tell where this was going. "Yea." He said his voice shaking with fear of what he knew would come. The chief took a step and stopped again. "Son, the tribe is… unsure of your… diet I suppose should fit. They don't understand why it is you don't eat the meat.

I don't know why it is son your victory against the Zangoose was impressive but at the same time you show no conviction to making another kill… Baw what am I saying son I rule the Krall Clan with a wave of my hand I can cast their doubts away and they will never be mentioned again. But Son I am unsure myself." Fith tensed here it comes he thought. "Son eat this tiny morsel of food and I will not question you and the clan will not question you simply show your allegiance is with us not the Pokémon."

The chief held out the meat. "Please if you eat it no one will question you ever again." Fith looked at it; it looked like a piece of steak juicy and warm it certainly wouldn't kill him to eat it. But as he looked at it all he saw was Winston dead and cooked the clan all enjoying the feline Pokémon. His stomach lurched and his empty basin instantly became home to what little berries and fruit were left from the prior day.

He wiped his shirt across his mouth and as he steadied himself he could see in the mirror his father the chief looking almost sad but Fith knew it wasn't the end yet. "I knew it, you have become sympathetic to them you would sooner play with the demons then hunt them as if you have no idea the danger. Did you not notice we have one less hunter? Did you not care to know that one of your brothers was killed by the very beast you now show sympathy for? They are mindless devil's son and though your insolence was cute when you were a child it grows dull now that you are all but grown.

You are no longer my son and as such you no longer have my protection you will be subjected to the true hell of Red Forest just as all in this clan are." With that he turned to leave it was only then that Fith realized how close the chief had moved towards him. The chief was practically a giant as tall as he was wide and that meant giant he had messy unkempt hair which is exactly where Fith had got his similar hair.

Fith boiled with anger though normally the quiet one he could feel years of watching silently as Pokémon were murdered rise to the top. "Mindless Devil?! The only mindless devil I know is the people who go out day after day and murder innocent Pokemon, you say I will know the hell of Red forest the true hell is living everyday terrified that the monsters will come and kill you and those you love. And I'm not talking about the Krall either the Pokemon are the true victims."

He stopped out of breath, the chief seemed to ignore him walking to the tent flap, Fith almost sighed a sigh of relief that the chief was leaving but then quite suddenly he turned and back handed Fith knocking him backwards into the full basin and mirror. The sense had been knocked right out of him but now he heard a sound. Was that screams of pain? From the chief no less? Fith looked up his vision blurry he could just make out the chief and a purple blur, he tried desperately to clear his vision and when it did he saw Winston clawing up the chief.

The chief tried batting the Pokémon off his face but Winston dug his claws in and the chief only injured himself more until finally he drew his sword Winston got the picture just in time realizing what would happen and simply dropped. The chief swung around blindly Fith took the chance to pick Winston up who was more than a little surprised. In fact Fith almost had his arm clawed off before Winston realized who had picked him up.

They ran from the tent hoping no one was quick enough to realize what was happening. "What are you doing here you might have gotten killed and eaten… you still may be killed and eaten." Though the Pokémon was being carried like a baby he still extended his claws as if to inspect them making Fith wince at the thought of his father not that he worried for him the chief would be enraged however thus why Winston needed to be as far away as possible.

Down the hill and about twenty feet from the gate, good news the hunters weren't gone yet thus the gate was still open bad news they all were standing right by the gate looking into the pen of food that was still needing fattening up it was just a Flaffy and her two Mareep. Hopefully they would remain entranced but then right as he made it to the gate a roar more ferocious then a fully evolved Pokémon went up through the camp no doubt the chief was out.

Fith practically chunked Winston threw the gate. "Run!" he yelled. The Pokémon didn't seem to understand why he had suddenly been sent airborne but did land feet down and looked back at Fith with concern in his eyes. Fith drew his sword as the hunters began to form around him, but Fith wouldn't let the same thing happen to Winston as what happened to Zangoose so he turned and cut the rope suspending the gate just as the hunters struck.

He gained a second to look under the gate and saw a curious Winston just before he parried the first strike, disarmed the second hunter, sidestepped a spear, cut it in half, kicked the fourth hunter, and got punched in the face by the chief making everything go black.

When he woke he was pretty much where he expected to be kneeling in front of the fire hands tied behind his back two hunters steadying him while he was still unconscious. The chief was there as well as his mother and the rest of the tribe all staring at him. "Ah el acorda." The chief said. Fith just rolled his eyes he didn't care anymore they could throw him in the fire for all he cared because Winston got away.

At least his worthless life could mean something now, and yet he knew he wouldn't be killed no that would be too easy. "Buscar o ferro." Yep that's pretty much what he expected. The worst part about having the flesh on your face burned and scared was not the actual branding it was the fact that the iron was kept in a tent by itself at the top of the hill so basically Fith had to sit and stare at the fire until someone brought the cool metal iron back then watch as it was put in the fire and heated till it was red hot and then you get the brand.

Fith tried not to scream when the iron seared his cheek but all that happened was he blacked out.

**I hope that was as intense reading for you as it was writing for me but who knows. As you may have guessed the theme for today was Pokemon as food I myself find the idea nauseating but please feel free to offer your opinion. Again hope you liked it and Please review because I need the self esteem.**


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